


Now I Just Sit in Silence

by RumblyStomach



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: 21 pilots - Freeform, Air Guitar, Assassin - Freeform, Car Radio, Inspired by Music, Lyric story, Music, Radio, Sit, Sniper - Freeform, and now, car, distraction, i just, in silence, lyric - Freeform, no music, twenty one pilots - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-06 02:48:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6734866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RumblyStomach/pseuds/RumblyStomach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An assassin is left to his own thoughts when he comes back from a job to find that his car radio has been stolen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Now I Just Sit in Silence

I pulled up alongside the old red brick apartment building, soothing classical music flowing forth from my speakers. My contact said there is roof access here, that way I can get above everything and get a good view of my target. I popped the trunk and turned the car off, careful to turn off the radio and lower the volume before getting out of the car. I walking to the back and pulled my “toolbag” from its hidden compartment next to the spare wheel.

I hefted it up and slung it over my shoulder, slamming the trunk closed. Whistling to myself, I looked both ways down the city street in the morning light, and crossed making my way to the apartment entrance. The keycard was where my contact said it would be, under one of the shingles above the door. I grabbed it and swiped it on the code reader, a buzzer sounded and a loud click signaled I could go in. I swung the door open and stepped inside.

I nodded to a man who was sitting on a bench in the lobby, but his thousand yard stare spoke volumes, telling me no one was home. I sucked in a breath and continued past him, heading for the stairs. I can kill people no problem, it doesn’t even phase me, but there is something that deeply disturbs me about seeing a person like that. So addicted and high that nothing registers. Their own body is nothing more than a vehicle that takes them from dealer to high and back again. Sad. The creepy feeling went away by the time I reached the top of the stairs, where a padlock on the door to the roof greeted me. The bolt cutters from my bag made quick work of this, and soon I was on the roof.

I walked up and took in a deep lungful of fresh air. I quickly scoped out the roof to make sure I was alone and, besides a flock of pigeons cooing and bobbing around the roof eating dirt and fighting each other, I was alone. I went to the Southeast corner of the building with a plain view of the park where my target was scheduled to be that day. I posted up behind a large light-up sign and began assembling my rifle.

I pulled out my phone and looked at the picture of my target once more, a white male in his mid-thirties with a tan Carhartt jacket. My contact informed me that he would be walking a small white dog on a red leash. It was now 6:35 am, exactly two hours before my target is expected to be coming through on his routine walk.

7:45 am. The usual early morning workers came in around this time on bicycles and foot carrying toolboxes and lunchboxes through the park and on the sidewalks. There have been a few morning joggers and runners in their brightly colored outfits coming through the park as well. No sight of the target yet, though.

8:30 am now. I looked through the scope and saw many a dog walker but none matching the description—oh, who’s that? There he is. Mid-thirties? Seems so. Carhartt jacket? Yep. Red leash? Uh-huh. White dog? Oh hell yeah, that’s my guy.

I’m about to take a breath and get a closer look when suddenly the target turned and smiled at something behind him. Huh? I zoomed out a bit and he crouched down to hug a young girl running towards him. Shit. No clear shot now, and- aw fuck, more witnesses. A mom and small boy came up behind the girl and my target, greeting him with smiles. They started playing with the dog and talking to the man.

Shit, shit, shit. I’ll never get a clean shot with these little fuckers running around him like that.

9:00 am. This was really unexpected, they were still playing in the park. My target was chatting with the woman as the kids played on the playground and ran around with the dog. I didn’t want to scar the kids, by making them watch as I kill this guy that they obviously care about. I’ve gotten multiple texts from my contact looking for an update. I don’t want to lose sight of the target, so I haven’t gotten back to him yet.

Oh, he began to separate from them. My target was then walking toward a porta-potty. Oh, perfect. The kids don’t have to see him die. He opened the door and stepped inside, as he was letting the door close behind him, I pulled the trigger. The bullet caught him in the back, going straight through his heart and popping a hole through the other side of the porta-potty. The door slammed shut behind him, and the woman and kids didn’t even notice.

I quickly dismantled my rifle, packed all the pieces away in my bag, and slug it over my shoulder. I climbed down the stairs, while calling my contact. Without letting him speak I said “I ran into some unexpected delays. However, your problem has been taken care of. I’ll be expecting your transfer within the next few hours.” I then snapped my phone in half and handed part of it to the spacey eyed man in the lobby. He took it from me without even blinking and gripped it hard. I tossed the other half into a barrel outside of the apartment entrance. I then dropped the keycard down one of the storm drains outside in the street.

The air felt different as I briskly walked back to my car, it was getting colder out. As I approached my car, I felt a sudden wave of dread float over me as I saw one of my car windows was smashed. I drew my sidearm and cautiously approached the vehicle. There was no one around anymore, however, they had successfully ransacked my car. The glovebox maps, flashlights, and cigarettes were scattered on the seats and the floor. My piece from the center console was gone, as was the extra stack of hundreds that I keep under my driver seat. They even took my radio! That’s still a thing? Stealing radios? What the fuck.

God damn it. I had just trashed my phone as well, so I couldn’t call anyone. I pulled out my keys and popped my trunk, finding it was the only thing not robbed. I put my bag in its hiding spot and closed it all up tight. I picked all the broken glass pieces off of my seats and sat down to a quiet ride home.

As I drove I just kept thinking of the guy that I killed today. There was no sound coming from my speakers, I couldn’t think of anything else. No music to hide behind or distract myself with. I had no phone so I couldn’t even play music from that. I hate this car now that I drive, I couldn’t hide from what I did. That man had a family. A wife, two kids, and fucking dog. And I killed him. For what? For money.

I liked it better when my car had sound. When I could sign along and air guitar and rid these thoughts from my mind. Somebody stole my car radio and now I just sit in silence.

**Author's Note:**

> In case you couldn't guess I was inspired by Car Radio by Twenty One Pilots. I had this idea a while ago a few days after I had first heard the song. I only just got around to writing it. Hope you like :)


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